Sheith Summer Week-Sheith Positivity Week 2017
by avidbeader
Summary: These are 4 of the one-shot stories I managed to write for Sheith Week 2017. All of them link Keith and Shiro, from getting to know each other at the Garrison to some missing scenes in S2 to future stories.
1. To Touch the Sky

Written for Sheith Positivity Week 2017. Day 1: **Sky** /Sea.

Disclaimer: If you recognize the character, it isn't mine. Just playing in Dreamworks' sandbox.

Note: I'm on Twitter and Tumblr under the same name. Come say hi!

* * *

 **To Touch the Sky**

Shiro was the first person Keith had let into his perimeter in years.

Shiro just got him, understood him. Bit by bit, Keith lowered his shields around Shiro and relearned what it was like to have a friend, someone to trust.

That first night had been a revelation. Shiro held him back after the combat practice he ran for the younger students, saying he had something he thought Keith should see. Shiro had led him up an out-of-the-way staircase, not bothering to hide the code that opened the door at the top, and out onto the roof of the Garrison.

"If you stay here, close to the wall, you can't be picked up on security cameras." Shiro sat, his back to the wall, and looked up at Keith, a bright expression on his face.

"Why did you show me this?"

Shiro reached up and tugged at the hem of his tee shirt. Keith sat.

Shiro pointed up. "For that. I thought you'd enjoy it, given how much astronomy you knew going into the class."

Keith looked up. The inky expanse of the sky stretched above them. It was an even better view than in astronomy class, where you had to wait your turn for one of the telescopes. As they watched, planets shone and stars winked. Keith spied a satellite zipping across, losing it in the aura of light from the moon.

They played spot-the-constellation until curfew, reaching up and pointing and pretending to touch the sky. For the first time since arriving at the Garrison, Keith felt like this could be home.

* * *

Two weeks after Shiro's graduation and commission, he found Keith in the library. He pulled the book out of Keith's hands, glanced at it, and closed it.

"Hey! You lost my place!"

"You were on page 387. Make a note of it and come with me."

"Unlike you, Sergeant, I have more classes coming next quarter." Keith stood and made a grab for his book.

Shiro held it out of reach and Keith growled. It was so unfair for Shiro to sprout up another few inches in months, after Keith had needed over a year to gain on him.

"Seriously, come on. It won't take all that long and a break will help."

Keith growled again as he gathered his things. As soon as Shiro lowered the book he snatched it and took it over to the checkout desk, planning to lock himself in his dorm room for the rest of the night once he had seen whatever Shiro wanted him to see.

Shiro led him to the garage that housed the compound's ground fleet and personal vehicles for the Garrison staff. Keith followed as Shiro threaded through several parked hovercars, growing more confused by the minute.

"Shiro, why are we here?"

Shiro reached a space, a tarp covering something underneath. "So, you know my uncle, the one in Kyoto who is stupid rich?"

"Yeah, you've mentioned him."

"He arranged this for my graduation." Shiro pulled off the tarp and Keith couldn't hold in his gasp. The hoverbike was a thing of beauty, gleaming with chrome and red, a white "01" painted on either side. "Let's go for a ride!"

Keith glanced out at the gathering dusk. "It's going to be dark soon."

"Which means no sunburn! Come on, put your bag in the hold." Shiro held out a helmet.

In a few minutes they were through the gates and out on the road, Keith holding on firmly around Shiro's waist. Shiro veered off the tarmac and shot across the sandy terrain. He skimmed across the ground for a few miles, then took advantage of a sharp rise and vaulted it, boosting the hovercells to send them into the air.

Keith let out a yell of delight and he could feel Shiro grinning from ear to ear even if he couldn't see it. This was flight like he had never experienced before: no pre-programmed paths in simulators, no roaring engines and windows surrounding them. Just the ground far below and the air rushing around them.

After a while Shiro brought the bike down and to a halt. He lifted the visor of his helmet and asked, "Want a turn?"

"Are you kidding?" Keith dismounted and pulled the helmet from his head.

"Um, what are you doing?" Shiro raised an eyebrow.

"Putting this away for one ride. I want to feel the wind with nothing in the way."

Shiro considered, biting his lip, but lifted his helmet off as well. Keith tried to stamp down a sudden jolt like electricity in his stomach, seeing the blossoming color in Shiro's lips and the dark hair falling across his forehead.

"If you kill us, I am haunting your ghost."

Keith laughed, and the unsettling excitement waned for the moment. They stowed the helmets in the hold and Keith straddled the bike. Shiro slid behind him.

"Start slow, get a feel for it."

Keith obeyed, quickly familiarizing himself with the controls and adjusting for Shiro's weight behind him. Then they took off and Keith immediately shot up the first hill he saw to launch them into the air.

Shiro yelped in his ear and his hands slid past one another across Keith's ribs to tighten his hold.

Keith laughed, relishing the feel of the air pushing past him and accelerated. He worked to keep the ride smooth and even for Shiro's benefit. Shiro felt confident enough to take one hand and push Keith's hair, whipping in the breeze, to one side. He tucked his chin onto Keith's shoulder and slid his hand across Keith's stomach. The touch awoke the tremors from before and he swallowed hard. Was he imagining it or did Shiro's grip get a little tighter?

He pushed the hoverbike as high into the air as he dared and now Shiro was definitely holding him tighter. Keith knew Shiro wanted to tell him to take them down. But he trusted Keith.

That knowledge drove the quiver in his insides higher; he had to let it out somehow. Keith took one hand off its handlebar and raised it as he shouted, reaching to touch the sky.

* * *

Thank you for reading!


	2. Silver Pepper

Written for Sheith Positivity Week 2017. Day 2: Sun/ **Stars**.

Disclaimer: If you recognize the character, it isn't mine. Just playing in Dreamworks' sandbox.

Note: I'm on Twitter and Tumblr under the same name. Come say hi!

* * *

 **Silver Pepper**

He tries, he really does, but after nearly an hour of listening to either self-important dignitaries pontificate about alliances or _racist_ self-important dignitaries sneer about the Galra (not having heard yet that one of the Paladins of Voltron that they're hosting is descended from the Galra), Keith is just done.

He takes a glass of the local wine, a disgusting liquid that tastes like a rancid Nunvill with sour cherries added, and slips out the doors to a large terrace. The night air is cool and a blessing after the heat of so many bodies in the ballroom, all talking at once. Now that he's out of sight, Keith loosens the collar of his Altean dress uniform and lets it fall away from his throat.

He looks up at the night sky, not expecting anything but another anonymous scattering of stars in a dark background. But for the first time he can remember, the view is hauntingly familiar.

Stars hang everywhere above the trees and the horizon, glinting against a deep blue backdrop. And rising from behind one of the hills, almost like the arc of a rainbow, is a bright, hazy path that shows lighter blues and muted pinks and whites. A few very white stars dot the trail as it traces its way up and eventually fades.

If Keith didn't know better, he would swear he was in Arizona, looking up at one arm of the Milky Way in all its spiraled glory.

He stares, remembering nights of sky-gazing with his father as a young child, learning the planets and constellations and how they moved over the course of the seasons. He hears familiar footsteps on the tiles of the terrace and his memories shift to nights spent on the Garrison rooftop or out in the desert with his best friend…

Shiro comes up behind him. "You needed a breather, too?"

Keith nods and leans back into Shiro's chest. Shiro pushes Keith's hair to the side and, discovering the exposed skin, trails a few kisses up Keith's neck.

Keith ducks away slightly, a smile on his lips, but Shiro slides his arms around him and holds him in place.

"If the Grand Mahadizier sees us…"

"Allura will tear him a new one for not minding his own business." Shiro plucks the glass from Keith's hand and sets it on the wide balustrade in front of them. "And besides, it's not like we're making out. Just a committed pair, regarding the silver pepper of the stars."

Keith leans back further and turns his head so he can see Shiro. One eyebrow goes up. "The what?"

Shiro chuckles and tightens his hold. "You never read _The Great Gatsby?_ "

"No…did they make a movie out of it?"

"Yeah, there's over a dozen different versions. It's funny, I read it in school, wrote the essay, took the test, got good grades on them. But now that's the only thing I remember out of the entire book. That one phrase just struck me as a perfect description of the stars at night. And of course I was already thinking of the Garrison, of trying to pilot in space."

Keith looks back up at the sky. He has to admit, it's an elegant phrase and pretty accurate, the white and glowing flakes scattered across the dark expanse. Like Shiro, he used to dream of flying among them one day.

And he does. He just didn't expect to do so in a temperamental sentient lion-shaped warship that joined up with four others to create the most powerful weapon in the universe.

"But you don't remember who was regarding the stars or why."

"Nope," Shiro replies cheerfully. "But I'm going to say it was Gatsby and his lover, taking a break from some party that had gotten _dreadfully_ boring. They slipped outside, into the courtyard, and found a secluded corner suitable for enjoying one another's company without interruption."

And Keith finds himself lifted and hauled back behind one of the mansion's pilasters, out of sight of the doors. Shiro spins him around and dives for his throat again.

Keith looks once more at the spill of tiny gleaming motes across the sky, then pulls Shiro's head up and devotes his full attention to kissing in the luminous starlight.

* * *

Thank you for reading!


	3. Weather the Storm

Written for Sheith Positivity Week 2017. Day 3: **Thunderstorm** /Summer Rain.

Disclaimer: If you recognize the character, it isn't mine. Just playing in Dreamworks' sandbox.

Note: I'm on Twitter and Tumblr under the same name. Come say hi!

* * *

 **Weather the Storm  
**

 _It could be worse. It could always be worse._

Keith repeated the thought in his head. Patience yielded focus for a while, but there was nothing to focus on that would improve their situation. He and Shiro were stuck waiting for as long as it took and the only good things about the circumstances were (A) whoever shot them down and fried every single function in the pod didn't seem to be interested in actually finding them; and (B) the comms in their helmets still worked, more or less. Enough for them to let the Castle know that they were alive and mostly unhurt. Enough to hear Pidge screeching at Coran over the fact that homing devices in the paladin armor or the pods weren't a thing and now she had to invent them on the fly in order to locate their missing team members on this enormous godforsaken boulder of a planet.

Thunder echoed from a distance and raindrops began to spatter on the windscreen of the pod. Large trickles started to pour from crags in the walls rising on either side of the deep chasm where they had crashed.

Okay, (C) they were sheltered from the weather.

Shiro was napping beside him after taking the first watch, slumped to his left so his head rested on Keith's shoulder. They'd set their helmets on the control panels and managed to get the upper half of their armor off. Cuirasses, pauldrons, rerebraces, and vambraces were piled in the small space directly behind their seats. Keith had his bayard in his hand, just in case, but the control that vanished the windscreen was as dead as all the others. He could probably cut them free with one of his swords, but for the moment was content to stay dry and wait for rescue, albeit with a bit of irritation.

Another roll of thunder reverberated, louder, and Keith felt Shiro flinch in his sleep.

* * *

 _He hears the drums echoing as he follows the guards down the dim hallway from the armory to the arena. Even after weeks with the deadly prosthetic where his right hand used to be, they still stop and offer him a choice of other weapons._

 _Don't they understand? He doesn't need weapons anymore. He_ is _a weapon._

 _The drums increase in volume, announcing the beginning of the fight. As they approach the entrance to the arena, he sees Haggar move from the shadows to intercept him. He fights to hide all emotion as she trails one taloned hand down the Galra arm._

 _"_ _We have a special challenge for you today, Champion. Should you succeed, you will cement your place as our greatest creation."_

 _Shiro doesn't answer. The drums get louder and now he can hear the roar of the spectators, anticipating the match. He moves to the end of the hallway that opens into the arena and looks across it at today's opponent. For a change the figure is smaller than he is, a two-armed biped with a lithe frame and a sword in one hand. In the back of his mind he is already analyzing the possibilities, expecting speed to be the issue rather than brute strength._

 _From a distance, he hears a familiar voice._

 _"_ _Shiro?"_

 _The figure steps into the arena and Shiro bites back a cry of denial._

 _It's Keith. He's expected to fight and kill_ Keith _._

 _"_ _Shiro! Can you hear me?"_

 _Shiro takes a step back, only to hear a warning hiss from the witch. She moves to his side and raises one hand, lightning crawling along it as the sound from the drums swells and the voices from the crowd rise. "Either you fight him, truly fight him, with all your strength and cunning, or I kill him now. The choice is yours."_

 _Keith is running across the arena floor toward him, dressed in the dark suit and ragged tunic of a Galra slave but with his Marmora blade in one hand. Shiro's prosthetic starts to move on its own, glowing with energy and reaching out toward the opponent as the drums grow louder. He resists with everything in his power and tries to redirect the weapon toward its creator._

 _"_ _Shiro!"_

 _Haggar grabs the prosthetic with the speed of a striking snake and suddenly Shiro can't move. Blinding white light leaps from Haggar's other hand, striking Keith in the throat and chest._

 _Shiro screams as he falls._

* * *

"Shiro, wake up!"

"Keith!" Shiro's cry was full of terror and pain and Keith grabbed for his shoulders, trying to hold him still so he wouldn't injure himself from thrashing. Another streak of lightning illuminated the pod as thunder continued to crash overhead.

"I'm here, Shiro! Wake up! You're dreaming! It's just a dream!"

Shiro's eyes fluttered open and Keith put one hand to his face. The contact seemed to ground him and he went still.

"You with me, Takashi? It was just a dream."

Shiro stared at Keith for several seconds, breathing hard, and then his eyes darted around the cockpit of the pod. Keith rubbed his hand along Shiro's jawline. "Just a dream. We're okay."

"Keith…"

"Yeah, I'm here. We're safe for now. Not going anywhere soon, but we're safe."

Without warning, Shiro hauled him across the space between the seats and into his lap. Keith let out a yelp of surprise, but relaxed as Shiro's arms encircled him, pulling him close to Shiro's chest.

Shiro buried his face in the crook of Keith's neck and shoulder, his body shuddering as the adrenaline began to leave. Keith stopped trying to reassure him verbally and ran one hand through the longer hair at Shiro's crown. He massaged the tense muscles in Shiro's shoulders where he could reach with his other hand, feeling them jerk at every crash of thunder.

Finally, the last of the tension drained from Shiro's body and his breathing evened out. Keith gave his hair one more stroke and trailed his hand down the stubble of his undercut.

"You okay?"

Shiro sat up and nodded. "Sorry about that."

"You don't have anything to be sorry for."

Shiro pressed his lips together for a moment, then nodded. Keith considered this a victory—normally Shiro would argue the point in some way for another few rounds.

Instead he leaned in and gave Keith a chaste kiss. "Thank you."

This was a second victory. Normally the most Shiro could handle after suffering a nightmare or PTSD episode was being held.

Careful not to tip the delicate balance they'd achieved, Keith responded with his own kiss to Shiro's forehead. "You're welcome. Always. Whatever I can do to help you weather this storm."

* * *

Thank you for reading!


	4. More Than a Brother

Written for Sheith Positivity Week 2017. Day 7: Free Day

Disclaimer: If you recognize the character, it isn't mine. Just playing in Dreamworks' sandbox. (A few lines of dialogue have been borrowed from the episodes in the tags.)

Note: I'm on Twitter and Tumblr under the same name. Come say hi!

* * *

 **More Than a Brother  
**

 _Something's not right._

The thought almost slips through his mental fingers, overlooked in the maelstrom of pain and exhaustion, but Keith grabs for it. It gives him a focus as Shiro's words flow over him, arguing with him, telling him to give up and hand over the knife to these people.

It's not like Shiro to tell people to give up.

Keith cradles his arm to support his throbbing shoulder, trying to gather himself in expectation of another attack. But the feeling of _wrongness_ persists and he tries to place it.

"We're all the family you need!"

 _Since when am I family to you, Shiro?_

And then he realizes. There's no warmth in Shiro's eyes. Pride, yes—people have always shown pride when Keith has accomplished something—but no caring, no support.

No concern.

Keith gambles.

"Shiro, you're like a brother to me… but I have to do this."

Shiro doesn't even blink at the statement. He plows on with his argument.

And Keith knows. This isn't Shiro. His Shiro would not stand there and watch him tremble from the pain. His Shiro would not try to talk him out of a decision once he made it. His Shiro would not make these accusations in such a cold, biting tone.

His Shiro knows damn well he's more than a _brother_ to Keith.

"Then you've chosen to be alone."

The flat declaration, the lack of hesitation as Shiro walks away from him makes Keith doubt. His fear gets the better of him and he shouts, "Shiro! Wait!"

* * *

The next time Keith is the one to walk away. He understands now that he's never going to really know his history, not when he keeps putting the greater good first. He has to respond to the threats outside the cabin walls. He has to help because he _can_ help. He goes through the door.

As he opens his eyes to find himself back in the dark hallway, sprawled on the floor, he hears running footsteps. Suddenly Shiro is there, leaning over him, helping him to stand, trying to hold and shield him as members of the Blade of Marmora pour in.

This is his Shiro. And he's ready to take on every single warrior on this rock to defend Keith, to defend his claim to the knife.

The knife is not worth Shiro's life.

"Wait! Just take the knife! It doesn't matter where I come from. I know who I am. We all need to work together to defeat Zarkon. If that means I give up this knife, fine. Take it."

And in a burst of lavender light, everything changes.

* * *

It takes so long.

By the time they fly the treacherous path back to the castle and introduce Kolivan to Allura, by the time Coran has all but shoved Keith into a cryo-pod for hours, by the time a plan has been worked out and tasks assigned, there's no opportunity left for Keith to try and talk to Shiro. He seizes a chance as they prepare for their separate missions, grabbing Shiro's hand and trying to put all his feelings into his expression as everyone says their goodbyes.

Maybe it works, a little. Shiro tugs on his arm and then they are embracing one another, taking a few brief moments to isolate themselves from the rest of the universe.

It's the first chance they've had to hold each other in days. Keith can count the opportunities on one hand since Shiro woke up in Keith's bed after his rescue from the Garrison. They make it last as long as they can.

Then they separate. Keith and Hunk manage to get the scaultrite from the weblum. Shiro and Lance and Pidge break the Blade's resident genius out of prison. They take down the Argus-like robeast a second time at the Balmera.

And then the five of them are together again, looking out at an Olkari sunset, knowing that tomorrow will be the biggest fight of their lives.

* * *

Shiro is listening as the others reminisce and speculate. His attention sharpens when Keith says, hesitantly, "I guess I could look for mine."

Shiro had thought Keith was done with that situation. The only thing going through the Trials of Marmora revealed is that Keith has Galra ancestry in some amount, probably on his absent mother's side. He wonders if Allura's continued cold-shoulder treatment is driving this, making Keith feel that he has to leave the minute Voltron is no longer needed. Find a new place to belong.

 _To hell with that._

As the five paladins begin to migrate toward the rooms set aside for them in the old palace, Shiro snags Keith's wrist and holds him back slightly. Once the others disappear into their quarters, Shiro draws Keith into his room. He shuts the door behind him and activates the privacy signal to prevent interruptions.

Keith raises an eyebrow at him. "What is it?"

Shiro's only excuse is _it's been too damn long._ He surges forward, plants a hand on either side of Keith's head, and pulls him in.

Keith stiffens in surprise, but only for a few seconds before kissing back enthusiastically. Shiro feels Keith's arms slide around him, hands moving up his back to pull him closer. Keith's lips part and Shiro wastes no time in engaging their tongues in an eager dance.

They break off, almost gasping for air, and Keith's fingers dig in, holding himself upright against Shiro. "What brought that on?"

"If we win…if you do decide to leave and find your family…I'm coming with you."

"I… Don't you want to go home?"

Shiro runs his thumbs down Keith's face, tracing the curves of his cheekbones. "At some point, yes. But there's no schedule to follow."

Keith's eyes start to shine in a telltale way. "I don't even know where to start. I mean, the Blade might give me more information if we succeed, but they might not have it. If I thought I could track my dad down, it might be faster to start on Earth after all."

"Put Pidge on the case. She'd probably find him in a couple of hours."

Keith smiles a little at that. "She probably would. Good suggestion."

"Now, can we pick up where we left off a moment ago?" Shiro leans in again. "I need to remind you that you are more than a brother to me."

Keith pulls back and stares at him for a moment. "How did you know that? That wasn't _you._ That's how I knew it wasn't you."

Pride rises in Shiro when he realizes what Keith is saying. His adorable, clever Keith, even after being pushed to the brink by the Blade's trials, had still fought back. Had thrown his own counter-test at the test.

He moves in for another kiss, but Keith retreats again, looking at him intently. "How did you know?"

Shiro moves one hand, brushing Keith's bangs back from his face. He wants to keep this from Keith; hide the fact that Keith's mind, his _soul_ , was laid bare for an audience; preserve a few shreds of his privacy.

But they built their friendship and then their relationship on always being honest with one another. Shiro is not going to hide this from Keith now in retaliation for Keith not telling him when he first made the Galra connection.

"They made me watch."

Keith closes his eyes. At first Shiro thinks he's about to erupt but then that crinkle forms between his eyebrows. He's concentrating on something. And Shiro realizes that Keith is going through his memories, tallying everything that Shiro was witness to. He opens his eyes again, looking up at Shiro.

"So you saw...the fights."

Shiro nods. "Wish you'd thought of that escape trick five or six rounds sooner."

Keith smiles ruefully. "Me, too." The smile fades. "And you saw the…conversation…with the other Shiro."

Shiro shifts his hands a little, cradling Keith's face. "You know I would never say those things to you, right?"

Keith puts his hands on Shiro's wrists and squeezes. "I figured it out. And yes, my brain knows that. But that test…wasn't about my brain. It was about… feelings. Beliefs. Memories. The next thing I saw was my dad."

Shiro had been about to congratulate him on the insight, but Keith's last statement stops him cold. Keith has rarely spoken of his parents. All Shiro knows is that Keith has almost no memories of his mother and that his father disappeared when Keith was six, leaving him at the mercy of the child welfare system for too long.

"I…I didn't see that part. After…the encounter with…the other Shiro, you collapsed. It looked like you were in tremendous pain. I tried to go to you and they held me back. I couldn't get loose until Red started attacking."

Keith smiles a little at that, remembering waking up to his lion's rampage. "I had to decide. I had to decide whether to stay and wait for my mother to come and explain about the knife or to leave and fight the Galra that were invading Earth. I left. I think some part of me suspected that my dad wasn't real, especially after arguing with y—the other Shiro. But I couldn't risk the planet just to learn some potentially unimportant information."

Shiro frowns a little, not liking that last part. "Unimportant?"

Keith shrugs. "Does it really matter if I'm part alien? Other than practical things like knowing if there's stuff I should or shouldn't be eating or drinking, what does it change?" His expression changes from serious to flirty with a speed that takes Shiro's breath away. "I mean, if there were any other…issues, we would have discovered them ages ago, right?"

Shiro throws his head back with the force of his laughter and catches Keith in a tight embrace, lifting him until his feet are dangling. Keith's arms slide around Shiro's neck to hold on as he laughs as well, dropping his head on Shiro's shoulder.

Shiro nuzzles for Keith's skin around the collar of his jacket and his hair. He finds Keith's pulse with his lips and moves down, nipping gently. Keith twitches and kicks, signaling that he wants to be put down. "Don't you dare leave a mark!"

"We'll be in our armor first thing…" The objection dies on his lips and Shiro's mood sinks as he remembers what they plan to do tomorrow. He lowers Keith to the floor, supporting him until his legs are steady once more.

Shiro knows what he wants and knows he has to be the one to ask. Keith learned not to ask, growing up. He accepts things when they are offered to him, but he doesn't ask.

Shiro lowers his hands, sliding them down Keith's arms. He grasps his hands and Keith shifts to interlock their fingers.

"Stay tonight?"

Keith nods. "Of course."

It may be their last chance for a while and they need to make the most of it.

* * *

Thank you for reading!


End file.
